Love is a Four Letter Word
by Kilonji
Summary: Drabbles, some long, some short, some angty, some cute. Multiple pairings. T Rated just to be flexible.
1. A Good Thought

**A/N:** Mah brain, she bubbles!

* * *

Kuroki thinks he must have imagined it. The floor was hard, the wine strong, and let's not even tackle the subject of Megumi-chan's cooking. Considering all the factors involved, he should not have woken up on the common room floor at the dorm. He should not have woken up at all.

But dreams of soft pink lips on his and the resulting rush of blood to two different places on his body—his cheeks and somewhere else—woke him up early.

He decides against rolling over; turns his head just a bit to find the Russian a few feet away, curled up like a little girl. Well, maybe not a few feet.

They're sharing a quilt. It is old but fresh and clean, and the snowy pictures on the panels identify it as Tanya's. Tanya who is curled up like a little girl, her yellow hair splayed across her face and her mouth open just a little. He can see the soft tongue caught between her teeth. He blinks. Her arm is splayed across his chest, and her breath has an alcoholic tang to it.

Kuroki turns his head to face the ceiling again, and the inevitable pounding is coming. He closes his eyes. When he was little, his parents told him to chase off nightmares with better thoughts. He scoots closer to Tanya. If he did not imagine it, he's sorry he missed it. Either way, it's a _very_ good thought.


	2. Smooch

His lips, he thinks, should be covered in blisters. She is an irritant. She's sloppy, she dirty, she behaves like a three-year old raised by wolves. He acknowledges the fact that because she has not had a bath since yesterday—it's noon now and hot as hell—her pheromones are aloft and when he looks at her, even though he cringes, it seems she is bathed in soft light. Like a chick on Star Trek that Captain Kirk is about to nail. On some occasions, even a certified mess like Noda Megumi can be beautiful. Utterly kissable.

For Shinichi, every one of these occasions involved her at a piano. Fingers speeding up and down the keys. Her mouth pursed as if in anticipation of a kiss. But not from some random man, or even from him. From the music. Perhaps, he thinks as he turns from the stove with a pan of steaming pasta, he should be grateful that her fornication with the baby grand in his room has forestalled a few attempts she might have made to rape him in the past. He's been able to fend her off most other times. Barely. Kissing her rarely seems like a good idea to him, except when he's doing it. He wonders why that is. He stares at the running water filling the strainer in the sink. What was he doing?

Nodame begins making impatient noises. He can't hear her stomach, so she must raise the alarm. Feed me, or suffer the consequences. Oh. And she had promised she would not ruin the first Saturday of quiet he'd had in weeks. What a little liar. Shinichi's jaw clenches as he finishes up and pours the alfredo sauce onto two plates. Always, always catering to her. Except where that one thing was concerned. He finds it disturbing that fornication and Nodame tend to be popping into his head closer together more often. Very disturbing.

Of course when he sets the plates on the table and she glances up at him, quizzically, like "Where's the broccoli?" he can only glare at her. Her face crumples a little and she immediately attacks her plate. She eats with her left hand and her right flips the pages of the manga she's reading instead of doing her schoolwork. That reminds him.

"What are you playing next term?" He knows he's asked her this before. His inability to recall the answer convinces him he'd never gotten one to begin with.

There's sauce at the corner of her mouth. She looks up at him blankly, then her eyes dive down and she mumbles something. He frowns, eyes following her. His hand shoots out and pulls the manga away from her. "What was that?" he snarls.

Her mouth forms a little O and she looks up at him crossly. "Sempai, I was reading that."

"Instead of your homework."

"I'll do it after I eat," she simpers, reaching.

He rises. "I'll hold onto this until you're done," he replies. And tries to leave the room before she leaps after him. Her weight on his back is enough to make him topple forward but not actually fall. Her left arm wraps around his neck as her right grasps at the air, just a few inches away from her coveted manga. He elbows her roughly and she slides off. But she is not done. A white-socked foot snakes out to land between his own moving ankles. Shinichi flails, the book flying, and grasps for the nearest thing to keep him balanced. Unfortunately that thing is Noda Megumi. The force of his body as he pulls himself up pushes her back, and there's nothing for her to cling to but him.

When they tumble down, she landing with a loud "oof" on the hardwood floor, he examines her. Nodame blinks up at him and her lips purse. There's no music, but she doesn't need to tell him what she wants. It's written all over that doughy face of hers and lit up like neon lights in those huge brown eyes. He is suddenly vulnerable to suggestion. Kissing her seems like the only thing to do. So he does it.


End file.
